Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Mackenzie
I leave Isabelle and walk toward the crowd, my gaze still hooked on Dimitri's.
He's walking slowly across balcony, reminding me of the jungle cat again.
Dmitri is too far away for me to read his expression, but I know this guy inside out.
I could be a million miles away and still know what he looks like up close when he’s up to no good. Or when he’s claimed something. In this case, the something is me .
He looks away, focus ahead on the door at the end of the balcony. It leads down to the labyrinth on the basement level of the club.
That's where he wants me to go.
The moment I think that, he opens the door and glances back at me over his shoulder before he walks through.
There's a door down here, too, that leads down to the labyrinth. If I go that way, it will meet at the intersection with the pathway from upstairs.
Swallowing hard, I continue through the crowd, trying to keep my nerves under control and my thoughts focused, but tension is curling around in my stomach like vines.
I rehearsed everything I was going to say tonight, but my mind is a wasteland of words and thoughts and emotions I can’t seem to gather together to help me.
Just keep moving.
Keep going and pray that the words will come.
I reach the door, walk through it, and step into a swirl of black and pink smoke rising from the floor in a sexy, dreamlike haze.
This area is dim, only lit by a warm, faint light just bright enough to just see my surroundings.
The path leads to a wide aisle with glass walls flanking either side. I proceed, and the moment I see naked couples beyond the glass having sex, I realize this is one of the classic exhibitions you’d find the Dark Odyssey.
Those guys are known for wild fantasies. This is one of them.
The people on my left are having an orgy. There are six of them. Three guys and three girls, each swapping partners.
When I was younger, this sort of thing would shock me. It doesn't as much now, but it's no less arousing because it’s so raw and in your face, you can’t tear your gaze away.
I continue down the path looking at the array of sexual fantasies unfolding on either side of me.
I’m almost near the intersection when I see a foursome of three guys sharing a girl.
There’s something hypnotic about their movements that fascinates and stops me. They have the girl blindfolded and her hands bound in front of her while each guy takes a turn to fuck her.
The way she parts her lips and strains upwards speaks of her pleasure.
Watching the way the tallest guy takes her has heat pooling low in my stomach and skin my warm, on fire.
“Have you ever been shared before?” comes a voice from behind me.
The voice curls my insides into my stomach, and I feel the weighted stare before I see him.
It's him. Dimitri.
I look away from the couple and turn to face him. He's standing across from me, leaning against the only concrete wall in this hallway. The smoke swirling around him makes his skull mask look unhallowed and demented.
I look him over, instantly recalling our kiss, but my cheeks are burning from his question. I try to find my voice to give him the answer.
“No,” I reply. That may shock some people because they think I’m into that sort of thing. I may have embellished the truth once or twice to shock my friends, but he just got the truth.
I won't bother to ask him about his sexual encounters. I've heard about them.
I know he’s done pretty much everything under the sun—including sharing.
That's what made him so desirable. Every girl for miles and miles wants Dmitri Valneko.
The desire to have the scorpion's kiss keeps them pining over him. I guess I’m no different.
But now's the time to do what's right and do the thing I set out to do.
Now is the time to talk. Be sensible. Be focused.
I need to try despite the angst roiling inside my soul.
I move away from the wall of people. It’s less distracting. I risk getting closer to him and stop far away enough so I can think straight without having his scent and his intense presence mess with my mind.
“My lord,” I begin, addressing him by the title I should because he’s a Knight.
“You don’t call me that.” His gaze beyond the skeletal hollows drifts down to my dress and roams over my body slowly and leisurely before climbing back up to meet my eyes.
I gulp against the thick layer of arousal covering my throat. “What should I call you?”
“What you always called me.” He flashes me an easy grin.
“Okay, Scorpion.” My voice sounds like I’m trying those words out for the first time, probably because it’s been so long since I called him that. I don’t even remember when it was.
“Spider.”
A little smile tugs at my lips. It feels like a lifetime ago that anyone called me that. Then I realize it was only him.
Forcing my mind to leave memory lane, I recenter my thoughts again. “We need to talk about that contract, Dmitri.” I call him by his name to show him I’m serious.
He gives me a clipped nod. “We do.”
“The last time I saw you was…” What do I say about the kiss? I have to mention that in some way. “It was great.”
“Was it now?”
“Yes.”
“Then why do you look like you’re going to say something I don’t want to hear?”
His comment surprises me. I never expected him to say something like that. “Maybe I am. I think the best thing we should do is not do this, whatever this is.” There, I said it. It didn’t feel right. In fact, there’s an ache left in my heart. But I said it.
To my surprise, Dimitri smiles. It’s a maddening smile that makes his mask look scarier. He pushes off the wall and comes closer—too close again.
He looms over me. I'm wearing four-inch heels, but standing this close to him makes me feel like I’m next to a titan.
“You think we shouldn't do this?”
“Yes, I think you need to release me from the contract.” I dig deeper inside me for the courage to keep going. “I’ve been bound to that contract for six months. That was the minimum amount of time required, and I did it. Besides that, it makes sense for us to not do this, because it’s less risky.”
He seems to consider my points. I watch, suspense rising as I wonder what he’ll say. This is the kind of situation where everything is the wrong answer.
“No.” He says the words so simply, it's like he didn't say it. But he did, and now my head is spinning.
“No?” I check, searching his eyes.
“No,” he repeats. “I won't release you from the contract early. And I disagree.
I think we should do whatever this is.”
My lips tremble, and I glare at him, wondering what the hell he must be thinking.
“Dimitri.”
“Mackenzie.”
I roll my eyes at him, and he smiles.
“Do you seriously think we can just be together for six months in this contract without our parents noticing and going crazy?”
He shakes his head. “No, I don't think so. But I never said anything about our parents.”
I wish I could peel back the layers of his mind and get the answers instead of being spoon-fed them in drips and drabs. “What are you planning, Dimitri?”
He reaches out and touches my jaw, like he did the other night. “A game of secrets.” His voice has that rough-meets-soft tone again.
“Secrets?”
“Like we used to when we were kids, except this is us all grown up.”
“But your father?—”
“My father is not here,” he cuts me off. “And he's not the boss of me.”
“But he's the boss of me while I’m at Raventhorn.”
“No, he's not. That's where you're confused. I'm the one in control here. Not him.” Dimitri’s voice drips with dark venom, cold and deadly with menacing intent. “You and I have a blood oath contract, Mackenzie Domachenkov. Not him.”
“I’m aware of that.” That contract, although done in the spirit of fun, is so serious it can bind a senior Knight like my father and they have to honor it. That’s why I was able to stop him in his tracks.
“Good, so you know that contract makes you mine.” His lips curve into a sly grin, then, as if for dramatic effect, he slides his mask off and gazes at me, the look in his eyes just as venomous as before but tinged with malice. Now that I can see his face properly, I can tell just how serious he is. But I’m stuck on the word mine . “You belong to me. That means the only person you need to worry about pleasing is me.”
His words grip me in a lock that makes it difficult to breathe. I barely get a moment to think before he lifts my chin, takes off my mask, and guides my face toward his. His touch and his stare hold me in place, paralyzing my me.
“You know the rules of a blood oath contract, don’t you, Mackenzie?” He tosses our masks on the floor.
“Yes.”
“Good, so you know if you break it, you and your family get punished.” His stare sharpens, cutting into me like pieces of broken glass. “We wouldn’t want that to happen, would we?”
His threat snaps my mind back into focus, and I pull away from him, staring him down as anguish squeezes my heart. “You bastard.” I want to follow that up by asking him if my family haven’t suffered enough, but I hold back when I remember he lost his brother. So, I decide to hold back within reason. “Are you threatening me?”
“I just want what’s mine. What’s owed to me. You honor your part of the agreement, and I’ll honor mine. Then we won’t have a problem.”
It’s odd to me that he seems so certain of what he wants now. Everything he’s saying was applicable back in June when he took over the contract. What took him so long to get to this point?
“Why did you wait so long to tell me this?”
His blue eyes darken, becoming stern. He would almost appear to be void of emotion except for the determination lurking in the edges of his gaze. “I had to think and plan. Now that I have, you and I are doing this.”
Think and plan . So, Isabelle was right. It was that. I’m assuming that was because of his father. He would have known before the summer break that his father was going to become the new Lord Chancellor.
My brain struggles to think. I’m stuck again. This time worse because now I know he’s adamant we stick to the contract.
It doesn’t seem like I’ll be able to change his mind. It doesn’t seem like I can . So, now the bigger question is, what do we do in this game of secrets?
What will we do that will break me even more?
After the incident, it took me years to gather the fractured pieces of my heart and move on. Not being allowed to speak to him was no different than a bad breakup.
It was unfair. I’d lost my memory, and it literally felt like one day we were friends, and the next we weren’t. And like some cruel joke, I was cursed to forget the gory details.
I know he saved me back then. It was him who found me. But I was still lost. Lost in the woods, lost in time, lost to him.
“What exactly do you want from me, Dmitri?” I need to know the answer to that. Despite the shit going on between our families, his intentions are the most important question to me.
“Isn’t it obvious, Spider?” The devilish grin that sweeps across his lips has my pulse galloping and my skin breaking out into a sweat. “I want you.”
My breath falters as if clogged by thick smoke, and that confounding juxtaposition hits me again where I’m torn between feeling like I’ve fallen into a dream or been swallowed up by smog of confusion where I know I should protect my heart.
The dark talons of the smog force that fear of hurt back into my heart, and I shake my head knowing this is a disaster waiting to happen. A disaster for me .
“I can’t,” I rasp, my voice barely audible.
“Yes, you can. And you will. I decided you’re mine.”
“We should just be friends.” I mutter the words, unable to keep the undertone of sadness from lacing through each one.
Again, he surprises me with a truly wicked smile and a slow shake of his head. Dmitri steps forward, reclaiming the little gap I created between us when I broke free of his grasp.
“I don’t want to be friends with you, Mackenzie.”
“Why?” I search his eyes, study his face, try to see beyond what he’s showing me.
“Friends don't look at each other the way we do. Friends don't kiss each other the way we did.” He recaptures my face. This time spreading his fingers along my throat. This time spreading liquid heat through my body. This time spreading the memory of that kiss through my soul and how badly I wanted more.
He moves close to my ear, his hot breath rolling across my skin like a caress. “A friend wouldn't want to fuck you the way I want to. So, no. I can’t be your friend. Not when I want you.”
My heart skitters, my pussy pulsing in response to the rawness in his words, and my throat goes dry. I turn my face toward him, my cheek brushing over the scruff of his beard.
We’re so close now, we’re eye to eye, nose to nose, mouth to mouth.
He tightens his grip around my neck. It doesn’t hurt. His touch is more possessive and dominant. Another sign he’s not the Dmitri I thought I knew.
“Dmiti—"
“Shhh. You know we weren’t friends back then, Mackenzie.” His voice drops lower, his breath brushing my lips, and I feel his touch and the pulse of his words deep in my core. “Even if you don’t remember everything, you know that to be true. And you know you want me, too.”
He presses his lips harder to mine, kissing me properly now. My resistance drains away like the rain after a storm, and I’m left powerless.
My lips part easily under the insistent pressure of his mouth, and his tongue delves inside, exploring and tasting me, hinting at all the things he has in store for me.
The rest of my resolve smashes like a delicate china, and I respond eagerly and greedily, meeting his tongue with my own desire.
At that moment, all the choices I thought I had fizzle from my mind, evaporating into the ether.
The blazing intensity of the kiss sends every nerve ending in my body tingling with pleasure, fueled by my desire for him.
It’s more potent than the kiss we shared at the theater. That one stunned me. This one awakens something dangerous inside me. Need .
Need like the maddening craze an addict experiences when they crave their fix.
His hand slides from my neck and cups the back of my head so he can kiss me harder and deeper. Then his free hand roams over my body, eager to touch me everywhere.
It reminds me of the couples in the display across from us.
His hand finds my breast and teases the nipple beneath the fabric of my dress until it’s hard and aching. I moan into his mouth, arching my back so I’m molded to him.
His cock presses into my belly. The feeling of his hardness and length sends waves of pleasure coursing through me, knowing I made him aroused for me.
I’m so captivated by the feel him against me and his hungry kisses that when he pulls away, I’m lost again. But the slow, seductive smile tipping his lips promises that he’s not done with me yet.
He plants hind hand beside me then gathers my dress, his eyes dropping to the space between my legs. Moving the dress to the side, he cups my sex and feels the wetness that has gathered in my panties and grins back at me.
“You’re wet. For me.”
“Dmitri…”
“I want to hear your pleasure.”
Before I think to speak, his finger slides beneath the lace and glides into my pussy.
He strokes me, sending my body into shivers of ecstasy and the blood throbbing in my veins.
My heart beats faster with forbidden longing, every inch of my skin burning.
Without taking his eyes off me, he massages the throbbing nub of my clit, and I moan out loud, pressing my hands into the wall at first, then gripping his shoulders.
“Good. Now I want to taste you.” His voice sounds like a haunting lullaby designed to lure you into temptation.
Spreading my legs, he nuzzles his face between my thighs and thrusts his tongue into my pussy. The impact has me digging my fingers into the hard muscles of his shoulders while his tongue sets multiple explosions inside me in a wild frenzy.
I’m trapped in desire. A prisoner to pleasure. And I don’t want to break free.
I lose myself in his possessive stroking, licking, petting, tasting. Then I lose myself again in him.
I writhe against his mouth and arch into the wall, soaking up the pleasure he’s giving me.
Mindless moans hum from my body. I’m on fire, vibrating in response to the powerful possession of his tongue and his touch.
“Oh my God,” I groan out loud, too loud.
How the fuck is it possible that I just went from telling him I wanted to be friends to this?
It crosses my mind that anyone could be down here and hear us, but I don’t care.
I close my eyes and relish the deeper thrust of his tongue as he continues eating out my pussy. Then he finds the trigger, and a vicious orgasm clamors through me.
I come. I come so hard stars sparkle before me with the smoke swirling around us.
Overlapping waves of pleasure consume me, curling through every inch of my body and leaving me shattered. The sensation sizzles through me, pushing me over the edge.
I’m left breathless and panting while my arousal flows into his mouth and he drinks me up.
I melt into the wall, trying to keep myself from falling over.
Dmitri doesn’t stop licking me until I’m clean, then he fixes my panties and stands.
He hits me with another smile that makes my knees feel like they may dissolve from under me.
He lowers his head to kiss me again, and I taste myself on his lips.
“See why we can’t be friends, Mackenzie?” he speaks into the kiss.
“Yes,” I answer, feeling like it’s the first right thing I’ve said in days.
“Good, now that we’re on the same page, meet me after football practice on Friday. We'll take it from there.”
He moves away, crouches to pick up my mask, and hands it to me.
I lift my trembling hand to take it and watch him slip his skull mask back on.
With one last scan of my body, he turns and walks away, leaving the wall to hold me up.
The black smoke swallows him, then he's gone.
The heat of his touch and the remnants of pleasure are still alive inside me, rising in my veins like a tsunami.
God. I’ve pushed myself deeper into that black hole of conflict.
I feel like I’ve been dragged into a Greek tragedy and Dmitri just became my Hades.
Except I’m not Persephone. She fought to see the light of day again. But me?
I don’t want to leave the Underworld.
I want to stay wrapped in the darkness of my captor.
And be his.
That is my weakness.